


white lies

by kiazareni



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Otabek POV, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:38:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiazareni/pseuds/kiazareni
Summary: “You cancelled your trip to Almaty,” he starts, aiming for a casual tone and watching as Yuri tries to avoid his eyes. “But you didn’t tell my why.”In which no one's really telling the truth but it's okay.





	white lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyaasnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyaasnow/gifts).



> I hope you like it!

This is how it starts.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Otabek shifts uncomfortably, holding his duffel bag tighter as it hangs awkwardly by his side. Yuri seems surprised, eyes widening when he opens his door to see him standing there, and a frown deepens on his forehead when he doesn’t receive an answer immediately. Otabek follows the line between his eyebrows until he gathers enough courage to meet the evergreen eyes, piercing a hole through his own. He doesn’t appear to be mad though, which is already a better reaction than Otabek expected and he relaxes a little. 

“Is this a bad time?” he asks politely, because Yuri doesn’t move, doesn’t invite him in, he’s just standing in the doorway staring at him.

“Is this a…?” he repeats with disbelief, shaking his head, “Beka. You’re here. In Russia.”

Otabek looks away, tilting his head down to hide his embarrassed smile before he replies.

“I know,” he says, “the sign kind of said so at the airport.”

Yuri raises an eyebrow but still doesn’t move. He shakes his head again, eyes finding the duffel bag in his hands.

“Why did you come here? And why didn’t you call me?”

“Can I tell you inside?” Otabek glances towards the living room behind the door, and Yuri steps away without another word, still frowning as he lets him in. From the way he leans against the doorframe easing the pressure on his leg, it is obvious that he’s in pain but he presses his lips together and sticks his chin out, almost daring Otabek to say something while still hiding his leg behind the door, as if he is hoping Otabek simply won’t notice.

Which is all sorts of ridiculous because, after all, that’s why he came here. The memory of finding out about Yuri’s injury and being a little bit pissed about it helps, so Otabek drops his bag on the floor and takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up right next to Yuri’s similar one at the door before he turns back to him with a small smile.

“You cancelled your trip to Almaty,” he starts, aiming for a casual tone and watching as Yuri tries to avoid his eyes. “But you didn’t tell my why.”

“I did tell you why,” Yuri argues, but there is a soft pink spot forming on his cheek, which means he is embarrassed. They both know that Otabek is, in a way, right about this, because the explanation Yuri gave him was a complete lie.

“Yes,” Otabek nods and Yuri stubbornly crosses his arms, lifting his head to look at him, “something about your grandfather needing help?” 

“Will you just stop fucking around and get to the point?” he snaps and pushes his hair out of his face after closing the door. He looks a little helpless, standing at the wall and Otabek quickly realizes why, stepping closer and taking his hand, curling his arm around his shoulder.

“Let me help,” he says simply, and Yuri must have hurt his ankle pretty badly because to his surprise, he doesn’t even object. He winces as they move, his warm body pressing against Otabek’s side and he guides Yuri to the couch to help him sit down. “You could have told me about your injury,” he adds quietly as he takes a place next to him, “I would have understood that you don’t want to risk flying, it’s perfectly natural.”

When Yuri called him the day before he was supposed to leave, Otabek didn’t have any reason to think he was lying. He sounded genuinely angry and disappointed that he couldn’t go visit him, especially because this would have been the first time that he’s the one visiting him in Almaty instead of Otabek coming to Russia. So even when Yuri gave him a rather vague explanation (something about Nikolai urgently needing his help, which, frankly, sounded more scary to Otabek than a relatively minor skating accident), he didn’t even consider that it might not have been the truth. 

“Yeah, well,” Yuri replies, “this is exactly what I wanted to avoid. You babysitting me and fussing over me like the worried grandmother that you are.”

“It’s just a sprained ankle, you’re gonna be fine,” Otabek reassures him, but he doesn’t prove Yuri wrong when he reaches for the purple blanket laying next to them on the couch and drapes it over Yuri’s lap, covering his legs. Yuri immediately starts fiddling with the hem of his comforter and doesn’t comment on it, once again hiding his eyes behind his hair that falls on his shoulders like a curtain. 

Otabek knows that Yuri doesn’t tell him the complete truth this time either but he decides to let it go for now. He himself doesn’t feel ready to discuss the real reason why he rushed to fly to Saint Petersburg upon hearing about his friend’s injury. Or why he was looking forward to their week together in Almaty so much. 

“Yeah, maybe, but… an injury,” Yuri grits his teeth and takes a deep breath, “an injury means I wasn’t good enough. I have to be better.”

His voice is filled with disappointment and Otabek hates to hear it, hates when Yuri talks like this, softening the edge of his words like he’s scared to say them. He’s not used to it from Yuri of all people, Yuri, who always puts on a brave face and acts like nothing can harm him or make him insecure. Then again, that’s also a lie, but when Yuri is willing to let that mask fall, Otabek knows that something is seriously bothering him.

“That’s just dumb,” he replies bluntly, trying to ignore the urge to pull Yuri closer to him, to hold him as he speaks. “We’re competing athletes, injuries happen all the time to everyone.”

“Not to everyone,” Yuri insists, “not to me. It happens to people who aren’t good enough,” he says and he probably knows how ridiculous that sounds because he turns to Otabek with a raised eyebrow, easing the weight of his words with a small, playful smile.

“I dislocated my shoulder at Worlds this year, remember?” Otabek decides to say, “Does that mean that I’m not good enough?”

“Yes.”

He thinks he should be at least a little bit offended by the fact that Yuri answers with absolutely no hesitation but he can only smile at his stubborn scowling.

“Huh, I didn’t expect that,” he says. “I walked right into this one, didn’t I?”

Finally, finally there is a tiny smile hiding in the corner of Yuri’s mouth which seems more honest than anything so far, and he straightens his back, like he is proud of himself for outsmarting Otabek’s argument.

“You did,” he nods and his eyes glint with the kind of fondness that only Otabek gets to see. “Beka, I promise you, I’m fine. I’m not depressed or anything, I’m just pissed. I can’t afford to lose an entire month.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Otabek points it out, “so you might as well stop being angry about it.”

Yuri cocks his head to the side, the small smile playing on his lips becoming a little bit wider before he speaks and Otabek is weak, so weak that he cannot stop himself from shifting closer, leaning against his shoulder. He knows it’s stupid, that it probably doesn’t look like anything from the outside, but he still feels like he is doing something he’s not supposed to do and it feels like lying.

“Have you met me? Angry is like 90% of my personality.” 

He reaches down to scratch the top of his bandage and Otabek pats his hand away.

“Don’t mess with it,” he says, “you’re just gonna make it worse.”

Yuri lifts his hand and points a finger at him.

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you,” he frowns, but again, his voice lacks its usual edge so Otabek doesn’t believe it really bothers him. “You’re doing the babysitting thing, just like I thought you would.”

“Yura,” Otabek starts patiently, “you’re a world famous athlete. You cough once and the media writes about it. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out that you hurt your ankle? It was all over the skating blogs ten minutes after you called me.” He tentatively touches Yuri’s hand where it rests between them and adds, “And I didn’t come here to babysit you.”

“Then why did you?” Yuri grumbles and lets out a frustrated sigh but he doesn’t pull his hand away. He turns his palm up to entwine their fingers and it makes something in Otabek’s chest flutter. “I’m useless, I can’t go anywhere, I can’t skate, I can barely walk so I’m not that much fun to be around. So why?”

There it is. Why did he come here, really? Otabek likes to think of himself as a responsible adult who doesn’t make any rash decisions, chooses his words carefully and always has a plan before he acts. Yet, when he learnt about Yuri’s injury, he practically had his plane ticket before he was done reading the blog post. He didn’t have a good reason to do that, except that he’d been mentally preparing himself for their week together for months, and he refused to postpone his plans any longer.

No, he waited long enough. He’s been waiting for three years. If he doesn’t tell Yuri now, he’s probably not going to for another three. 

“Because I cooked,” he blurts out.

Alright, maybe not right now, like right at this moment. He needs to find the right time, not when he just sat down and there are so many more important things to worry about, like Yuri’s injury. He can’t just say “so hey, the reason I really wanted to meet you is because I’m in love with you and if I don’t tell you right now I might never will, anyway speedy recovery, I hope your ankle will be okay”, Like really, he’s just arrived, he is still wearing his shoes, and Otabek is pretty sure that this conversation needs to be had without shoes on.

On the other hand, if Yuri freaks out and sends him away, at least he won’t have to spend much time gathering his things.

“You what?”

“I… cooked,” he repeats, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, but still trying to play it cool, “you know I never do that. I wasn’t going to let it be for nothing.”

“Wait, so you brought me food?” Yuri tilts his head, blinking up at him in excitement. It’s a long-standing joke between them that Otabek is a terrible cook but he has never actually made anything for Yuri before, a fact Yuri likes to bring up from time to time, promising him that one day he will teach him. “Are you trying to poison me for cancelling our vacation?”

“Even if I wanted to, my plan failed,” Otabek admits, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “I forgot they wouldn’t allow it on the plane. They made me throw it out.”

“God, Beka, you’re such a dumbass,” Yuri snorts and leans back on the couch, dropping his head lazily on Otabek’s shoulder. “But let’s be honest, it’s probably for the best. If you kill me and go to jail, I won’t be able to break you out because I’ll be dead.”

“You would break me out of prison?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and he doesn’t dare to move, doesn’t want the peaceful, content expression on Yuri’s face to disappear. 

“Of course I would,” he hears him say, and the blonde locks fall around Otabek’s shoulder as Yuri shifts to look up at him. “Are you kidding? I need you out here with me.”

Otabek smiles softly, reaching out to brush Yuri’s hair down as he doesn’t even try to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach anymore. It feels like it’s constantly there nowadays, even when Yuri isn’t with him, it’s enough to see his name pop up on social media or just to think about him from thousands of kilometers away in Almaty. 

His life would definitely be easier if Yuri didn’t go around saying things like this. Even if he knows Yuri probably doesn’t mean anything by it, it only fuels his emotions and certainly doesn’t help stay behind the clear line of being best friends. 

Honestly, he is fine with being friends. He is happy to have whatever Yuri is willing to give him. It’s just… when Yuri says things like this, when he is sitting pressed up against him, pushing his nose in the crook of Otabek’s neck like it’s something perfectly normal for friends to do, that’s when the line becomes blurry and Otabek suddenly isn’t so sure of anything anymore.

He knows that their friendship is unusual, though. It has been from the start, from the moment he took Yuri to see the sunset in Barcelona, from the moment his teeth grazed against the soft white skin as he pulled the glove off from Yuri’s hand in front of an audience during Yuri’s exhibition skate. 

He’s not sure if this is only how their friendship works, a little weird, a little off-balance, a little different from how other people are with their best friends. 

He’s only sure of one thing, and that is that he loves him. As his best friend, as his competition, as his inspiration and as his lover if Yuri wants that.

Which is why Otabek has spent three years trying to decide if he should tell him about his feelings or not. He doesn’t want to lose him, or ruin what they have right now, and he is afraid Yuri won’t be able to put it past them if he doesn’t feel the same way. Otabek knows the drill: they stay friends, ignore the awkwardness until they just can’t anymore and then slowly drift further away from each other, pretending that it’s only natural to grow apart.

“To answer your question, I missed my best friend and I wanted to spend time with him,” Otabek replies eventually, bumping their shoulders together. “That’s why I came here. And he’s always fun to be around.”

He promises himself that he will tell Yuri the real reason eventually, just… not tonight. He tells himself that it’s too soon, he’s just arrived, it’s not the right moment, but the truth is, he is afraid to talk to him. Because Otabek wasn’t lying, he did miss Yuri, he did want to spend time with him, so he allows himself one more day to just enjoy his presence, to be close to him. 

He has told himself from time to time that he could be content like this, being Yuri’s best friend and never asking for more but he knows that he can’t go on like this forever. 

So he won’t.

“You’re a fucking sap, Beka,” Yuri said.

Just once, he has to ask for more.

“I know. Stop being weird about it.”

“Fine, sap. You’re still going to babysit me though, aren’t you?”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he will ask.

“Yeah, probably.”

 

This is how it starts.


End file.
